


Les Amis de l'THC

by misskalliequist



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Combeferre & Enjolras Platonic Life Partners, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Football | Soccer, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Marijuana, Misunderstandings, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, dumb boys, eventual smut don't you worry, literally how do you tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-13 09:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5702893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskalliequist/pseuds/misskalliequist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac comes back from a summer in Italy and finds out two things: 1. Combeferre got really hot over the summer and 2. Combeferre is also now a drug dealer. This makes Courfeyrac's life significantly more complicated than he ever wanted senior year to be.<br/>Basically Courf is a drama queen and Ferre is a nerdy stoner and they need to figure out their shit. There is also a soccer team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bring Him Home

Courfeyrac’s leg couldn’t stop jiggling as he sat in his family’s car. Courfeyrac was already an energetic enough person, but after an eight hour flight with a two hour layover, he was restless to a point of madness. Not that he didn’t love being with his entire family. He loves his family more than anything else in the world, maybe besides bowties. Or naps. Or kittens. But that’s not the point. The point is that even though Courfeyrac loves his family fiercely, he also hasn’t seen his best friends in two months and he can only assume that this is what missing a limb feels like. More than anything right now he wants he really, really, _really_ just want to hug his friends and smush their faces and smell them. 

After spending the entire summer away in Italy staying with his aunt and uncle, he feels that his homesickness or friendsickness is totally and completely justified. 

His littlest sister keeps asking him how to say different animal names in Italian and he keeps indulging her but his mind is distracted because _they’re almost home_ and _why can’t the speed limit be faster_. 

The family car pulled up the driveway and god was his house a sight for sore eyes, “It’s good to be home.” he murmured. 

His father patted him on the shoulder, “Just wait until you get inside,” he said with a wink. Courfeyrac really didn’t think anything of it, just walked in through the front door and jumped (and maybe screamed with the intensity of a thousand preteen girls, but he will deny this to his dying day) when all of his friends jumped out from behind various furniture pieces and shouted “SURPRISE”. with confetti poppers and party blowers and party hats and _oh my god Enjolras is actually wearing a party hat_. Courfeyrac couldn’t believe his eyes. Before he could even say anything everyone was crushing him in a mass group hug and he couldn’t breathe but he was okay with it.

“You guys I missed you so much this is the best way to come home ever,” Courfeyrac squeaked from the center of the gangly group of teens. After a clusterfuck of people saying, “you have to tell us all about your summer” and, “it hasn’t been the same without you” and “please say something cool in Italian” things settled down and Courfeyrac got to truly soak the glory that is his friend group in. He had missed Jehan in his houndstooth pants, purple striped shirt and way too large denim jacket. Enjolras looked somehow evenly more godly with his flowing, golden hair down past his chin. Marius looked like he was about to cry but Marius always kinda looks like that so it was okay. Bossuet and Joly were attached at the hip and laughing at each other and Jesus Christ they were the cutest couple. Bahorel looked like he could easily crush Courfeyrac with his bare hands and damn he must’ve really upped his work out schedule to get that ripped. Feuilly looked dashing with his short curly red hair and in his overalls because _yes, Feuilly was significantly more hipster than you so deal with it_. Grantaire was all slouchy in his signature green hoodie and beanie but looking very pleased to be with everyone in the room. Eponine looked smoking hot with her dark makeup and all black outfit. There was only one person missing from the equation and Courfeyrac was very confused as to why Combeferre was not currently hugging the shit out of him.

“Combeferre’s gonna be here don’t worry,” Enjolras said, reading Courfeyrac’s mind, “He’s just gonna be a bit late because he has really strict hours at the hospital.”

“Oh thank you Jesus, I thought he had left me for someone prettier,” Courfeyrac joked.

“Doubtful, seeing as he’s the one who came up with the surprise party idea.”

Courfeyrac’s heart honest to god melted right then and there. Combeferre was the bestest best friend in the world (along with Enjolras, obviously) and of course he was the one who thought of this. 

“So who wants to hear the story of how I got stuck on a gondola with a drag queen?” Courfeyrac asked the group, and when they all nodded their heads enthusiastically he dove into the theatrical tale that was only a tiny bit exaggerated on Courfeyrac’s part.

When he was done telling his tall tale, Jehan spoke up from the couch he was sitting cross-legged on between Feuilly and Grantaire, “Courfeyrac, did you fall in love while you were away?” 

“Oh my dear Jean Prouvaire, I fell in love with every Italian boy and girl that came into my bed. Woe is me however, for Lady Love does not visit long. By the time the sun would rise the next morning, I would be out of love as soon as I had been in it.” Courfeyrac waxed, gesticulating dramatically as he did so.

“How many people exactly did you fall in love with then?” a voice came from across the room. Courfeyrac looked up and, in true movie cliché fashion, his jaw dropped to the floor. Combeferre looked good. No. Combeferre looked hot. His honey brown hair that usually fell over his forehead was now coiffed back, his old wire-rimmed glasses had been replaced with new clubmaster-style ones, and instead of his slightly too big nerdy clothes he was accustomed to wearing, he had on skinny chinos and a nice light blue button up. And of fucking course Combeferre was wearing Albert Einstein socks. Of course he was. But more importantly Combeferre didn’t look as awkward and bookish as he usually did and had he been working out with Bahorel? Because Courfeyrac did not remember his best friend’s arms looking that toned and oh my god when did Combeferre go from being hot to being _hot_. 

Before he could fully process what was going through his head, his body took over and he ran over to Combeferre and threw his arms around the taller boy’s neck. 

“Hey Courf, I missed you too.” Combeferre laughed gently as he picked up and spun Courfeyrac around. Courfeyrac realized that he was probably suffocating Combeferre a bit but that was a nonissue because he hadn’t seem him in months so breathing could wait.

When they finally let each other go, Courfeyrac sat back down on the loveseat, now completely squished between Enjolras and Combeferre. The former who was fidgeting because of lack of respect of his personal bubble, while the latter sat in a position of ease and comfort. And Courfeyrac was happy as a clam to be sitting right in between his two very best friends and surrounded by all of his other best friends.

“Okay so where was I,” Courfeyrac chided, ready to continue retelling his adventures, “Right. I fell in love with approximately six boys, two girls and one gender angel.” he stated proudly.

“That’s a lot of love to be felt in just two months.” Enjolras said.

“That Italians give out their love with an exceptional ease that I believe the rest of the world lacks.” Courfeyrac responded.

“You just say that cause you wish you got that much action back home.” Grantaire teased.

“Excuse you! I get plenty of action here. You all are just jealous of me.” he sniffed, putting his nose in the air. 

“Can’t say that I am, this punk is the easiest lay of my life.” Feuilly said as he punched Bahorel in the arm. 

“Oi! As I recall you were the easy one, you stood no chance against my methods of seduction.” Bahorel barked as he punched Feuilly even harder back. This started them to continually punch each other back and forth as they argued about who was the easier lay.

“I don’t think that I’m exactly jealous either, I can’t complain about my sex life.” Bossuet smiled cheekily, attempting to smoothly put his arm around Joly but instead knocking over a (thankfully) empty cup from the side table. 

“I can’t complain either,” Joly replied as he fondly watched Bossuet pick up the fallen cup and bring it back to the kitchen.

“Yeah well you all are in relationships so you have half the trouble I have to go through.” Courfeyrac refuted, “All I’m saying is I should get double the points for every new person I sleep with.”

“First off, we are not making this a competition because that is dumb and second, you would literally get two points every time you have sex. You’ve never slept with anyone more than once.” Enjolras deadpanned from his side of the loveseat looking vaguely annoyed. 

“My point exactly! I’d be totally winning!” 

“We are not making this a competition!” 

The conversation flowed naturally from there throughout the night. Courfeyrac would intermittently tell stories about his time abroad or one of his friends would recount an event from the summer. His parents had given him the house for the night, knowing he’d want to spend as much time with his friends as possible, but most of them started to trickle out at about midnight. By the time Bahorel and Feuilly has finally wrestled each other out of the door, only the Big Three (as Courf liked to call them) were left. Courfeyrac waved goodbye to Bahorel and Feuilly as they drove away then went back to Combeferre and Courfeyrac who were still in the living room. 

“One last sleepover before senior year begins?” Courfeyrac asked, even though he already knew the answer. The three of them always had a sleepover just before school started. They didn’t do anything special during it, it had just become a tradition and they stuck with it. 

“I left my sleepover bag in my car so I’m gonna go grab that.” Enjolras said and then went out the front door.

“Okay. We need to talk.” Courfeyrac said seriously, Combeferre’s expression turned into one of concern, “When the hell did you start working out?”

Combeferre laughed at that, “Oh I don’t know, I just figured I might as well use my gym membership my parents have and I’ve found it relieves a lot of stress. It’s also fun to workout with Bahorel.” 

“Well okay you must have boys lining up to be with you. You literally look so good.” Combeferre just waved his compliment off with a chuckle as he looked down at his hands. “No seriously who does Combeferre has his eyes on I must know.” Courfeyrac pressed further.

“Nobody, I promise, Courf. I would tell you if there were.” Combeferre said earnestly. Enjolras walked back into the living room, red duffle bag in hand and the threesome moved up to Courfeyrac’s bedroom.

Courfeyrac sprawled onto his bed and practically purred like a kitten at the feel of his pillows. Enjolras sat at the swivel chair by his desk and Combeferre managed to sit at Courfeyrac’s feet. This was nice. This is what Courfeyrac had missed for the last two months, just sitting with his best friends and how natural and normal it felt. 

“Do you guys want me to roll us a joint?” Combeferre asked and hadn’t Courfeyrac just been thinking about how normal this all was? Well that most definitely was not normal.

“Oh my god what?! Since when do you provide the drugs Ferre?” Courfeyrac’s mouth did the jaw dropping thing again.

“Probably since he became the most reliable dealer any of our friends know.” Enjolras said as if it was common knowledge, not looking up as he texted someone at lightning speed with a righteous fury,“And I’m down if you guys are.” 

“Courfeyrac, you down?” 

“I mean yes. Obviously. But okay, what the actual fuck Combeferre?! You’re a dealer?!” 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” he responded as he pulled an iPhone box from his bag. When he opened it the pungent odor of weed wafted through the room. 

“Okay um since when? Also how? Also why?” Courfeyrac asked, starting to get exasperated at how no one else thought this was a Big Deal.

“Well I really have my brother to thank for it,” Combeferre said as he started to grind a bud, “Since he’s been making frequent trips out to southern California it’s been a convenient source. I started providing just for our friends because I always had access to it, but then I realized I could expand my clientele and really make a profit off it.” he starting rolling the joint with concise precision, “Then through my job at the hospital I’ve had a lot of access to prescription meds,”

Courfeyrac eyes practically shot out of their sockets, “Christ Combeferre please please _please_ tell me you are not stealing from a medical facility.”

“No, of course not,” Combeferre looked mildly taken aback, but continued rolling the joint, “I’m not trying to lose the job I worked so hard to get. What I was going to say was I learned a lot about different medications and the highs you get from them. With that knowledge I started buying stuff off the deep web. You can get some really good prices there.” 

Courfeyrac was (almost) at a loss for words, “Oh my god my little baby is all grown up and has become a crazy smart drug lord.” he crooned as he made a show of pretended to be tearing up. Combeferre just laughed and Enjolras rolled his eyes and tried to suppress a smile. 

Courfeyrac’s bedroom windows had a tiny section of roof attached to them, just large enough for a few people to sit on. The three carefully climbed onto the shingles and situated themselves until they were comfortable. They had spent countless nights on this roof together, joint or no joint, talking about their lives, their futures, the possibility of aliens watching them. It was one of Courfeyrac’s favorite spots.

“You get first hit as a coming home present,” Combeferre handed him the joint and the lighter. Courfeyrac graciously took the small white roll and lit up. 

“So Combeferre’s a drug dealer, what else did I miss over the summer?”

“I might as well just say it— I’ve started hanging out with Grantaire. And before you say anything, we’re just friends. Nothing more.” Enjolras said as he stared at the stars and took the joint from Combeferre.

“Oh. My. _God_. I think this is a bigger dealer than Combeferre becoming a drug dealer. You two are totally dating aren’t you.” Courfeyrac squealed with delight.

“Nope. And we’re dropping the conversation. I just figured I let you know. It turns out Grantaire and I have common interests and everyone was really busy this summer so we ended up hanging out a few times. But that’s it.” Enjolras stated.

“Yeah, common interests like each other.” Courfeyrac teased, but when Enjolras threw him an icy glare he backed off from the subject. “Sorry Enj, didn’t mean to pester you. I’m glad that you and Grantaire are getting along.”

Combeferre snorted from where he was sitting, “Getting along is definitely quite the stretch. They still argue like there’s no tomorrow.” 

“Good. I’d be worried if you guys weren’t arguing.” 

The conversation died down from there and even once they finished the joint, they just sat in silence and stared at the stars which were brilliantly bright or the cars driving down the distant road. Enjolras’ phone dinged with a text message and that sent him on another text rampage. 

“Ferre,” Courfeyrac said quietly, “What can you tell me about the stars?” 

Combeferre scooted closer to Courfeyrac, just close enough so their knees and shoulders bumped into each other, so they’d be in the same line of vision. Combeferre went into his cute nerdy scientist mode and started pointing at all the stars he could name (which was a lot) and talking about how far away they were, how big they were and all this other crazy knowledge that most people didn’t take the time to remember. Courfeyrac always wondered where Combeferre found space in his brain to store all this information, but he had accepted long ago that Combeferre’s mind was a vast and mysterious place that he would probably never truly understand. 

When they finally started to feel sleepy, the three made their way back into Courfeyrac’s room and set up their beds. Combeferre volunteered to sleep on the floor and let Enjolras and Courfeyrac have the bed, the latter of which was so happy to be curled up in his own comforter with his own pillows for the first time in ages. 

Combeferre turned off the lights and got into the sleeping bag which was right below Courfeyrac. From the faint light leaking through the window curtains, he could just make out Comberre’s soft hazel eyes looking up at him.

“It’s really good to have you back Courf.” Combeferre smiled up at him softly.

“It’s good to be back.” Courfeyrac responded, barely finishing the sentence before yawning. And maybe it was because of the weed or maybe it was because he was really tired, but Courfeyrac was filled with an overwhelming happiness as he drifted off to sleep.

It was so good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaahh!! ok so I'm super rusty with the whole "writing" thing but here's my first go at this crazy story that's been buzzing in my head for the last few months! constructive criticism is greatly appreciated just be as kind as possible : )  
> so a few things: no need to worry about hard drug use, i'll mostly stick to weed with a few prescription ones thrown in. combeferre is still same old intelligent/calm/logical combeferre, he just likes getting high and talking about science. there's going to be a lot of pining/build up/lack of proper communicating that every good les miz fic has so hopefully it won't disappoint.
> 
> if reading about drugs isn't your thing, then this fic probably isn't for you seeing as that will be a recurring theme. sorry babes.
> 
> also i'm so sorry about the name of this i couldn't resist no matter how hard i tried.


	2. Musain Academy for Boys

The crazy bustle of teenage boys and their families felt routine and strangely comforting to Courfeyrac at this point. He carried a box down the long hall towards his dorm, the last room on the third floor of the dormitory building. The mahogany halls were a home away from home, the portraits of long dead men no longer frightening, the uniforms were now something he wore with not only pride but also gratitude. Musain Academy was an all boys private boarding school rich in history and in its attendants, rich. It held a prestige virtually unrivaled within the area, its graduates going off to become nothing short of presidents, CEO’s, lawyers, doctors and engineers. Since being founded in 1823, it had produced nothing but the finest young men to contribute to the world. Many of said young men came from families of old money and with a high social status. As much as Courfeyrac really did love his school, he fucking hated how damn elitist it was. 

He walked into his dorm and set down the box, his mother making his bed for him (yes he had Star Wars sheet and no, he was not ashamed) while making idle chat with Marius who was setting up his desk on the other side of the room. 

“You know, it’s kind of funny how we’ve been roomed together every year since ninth grade.” Courfeyrac said as he started moving his clothes into his closet. Marius hummed a reply, more intent on lining everything up perfectly on his desk.

“Well I think it’s just wonderful!” Courfeyrac’s mother cooed, “Marius was just telling me how he got to intern for his grandfather’s law firm this summer.”

“Oh yeah, Marius loooooved that, didn’t he?” Courfeyrac grinned at his freckled friend. 

“It was great.” Marius squeaked. Marius was a scrawny little bugger with freckles covering his pale skin, tousled sandy brown hair that never lay quite right on his head and ears that were just slightly too big and had a tendency to turn red. In Courfeyrac’s opinion, he was a human-shaped mouse. Marius’ relationship with his grandfather was undeniably not the greatest, and Courfeyrac knew that he had been pressured into going into law next year by the stern old man. Courfeyrac had only met Marius’ grandfather twice, but he was fairly certain that the internship hadn’t been by Marius’ choice.

When the five o’clock bell rang throughout the buildings, Courfeyrac gave his mom and dad long hugs with just the smallest of tears in his eyes. When they finally left, he threw on his navy blazer with the school crest on the pocket, and knotted the tie that he could so naturally do by now. After straightening Marius’ tie (you would think after three years the boy would be capable of doing it properly himself) they headed down to the chapel to hear the headmaster give his welcome back speech. 

The chapel was the school’s oldest building, the gothic architecture gave it a cold and eerie feeling and Courfeyrac always had the chills whenever he was in there. Granted, it was incredibly beautiful, with tall arched windows and intricate designs in the stone, it also just happened to have a very poor heating system and Courfeyrac was a freeze baby.

It was easy enough to spot Enjolras and Combeferre amongst the crowd of boys and faculty in the chapel, the former’s wild blond curls and the latter’s height made them an easy duo to pick out. They were already sitting in the rows sectioned off for seniors. Courfeyrac grabbed Marius by the sleeve and dragged him over to his friends. 

Courfeyrac slid into the pew and sat down next to Combeferre who turned at smiled at him. 

“Hey Courf, hey Marius. How was your move in?” Combeferre asked.

“Same old same old.” Courfeyrac replied, “I like the senior dorms way better than the underclassmen dorms though, it’s pretty cool to have curtains going around my bed. How was yours?”

“Not bad, but it seems Enjolras and I both brought too many books to fit on our shelves so we’ve had to become more resourceful with finding places to put them.” 

Courfeyrac snorted, “Nerds.” and laughed good heartedly. 

“I’m just trying to find the most convenient dorm to go to when I find a sock on our door handle.” Marius said looking rather distressed, “I’m not spending anymore nights falling asleep in the halls after last year.”

“You could just come join in on the fun.” Courfeyrac winked making Marius blush a furious shade of red and looking mortified at the prospect.

“No thank you, I don’t need to see anymore of the student body in intimate situations than I already have thanks to you.” 

Courfeyrac cackled at the memory of Marius walking in on him and some sophomore last year doing very _very_ dirty things and practically fainting at the sight of it. Those types of activities just weren’t Marius’ thing.

Courfeyrac’s thing was that he didn’t have _things_ with other people. Sure he would go on dates often, with both boys and girls, but he had a very _very_ strict policy when it came to getting physical. Or, it wasn’t so much a policy as it was just a recurring thing that consistently happened— Courfeyrac would hook up with someone, maybe spend the night in their bed if he was in dire need of cuddles (though he could usually go to his platonic friends for those) but then as soon as he left the bed (or desk or bathroom stall or wherever), he felt no desire to hook up with that person again. He wasn’t aromantic by any means, he had crushes on people all the time, but once he slept with said person all feelings of romantic and sexual attraction were gone. He never led people on, being very straightforward with what they should expect from him. It was just the way he was. And Courfeyrac had grown to be very okay with it. He just simply liked being intimate with people for one night and one night only. And this way he had lots of room for experimentation and he had lots of fun because of it. There were never strings attached. Courfeyrac could enjoy sex for the physical, pleasurable thing that it is.

Enjolras made an exasperated noise from where he was sitting on the other side of Combeferre.

“But don’t worry about it Marius, I’ll be very good about texting you before hand and I’m sure Enjolras would always love your company.” Courfeyrac said with a devilish grin. Enjolras shot him an icy glare but didn’t say anything, his scowl deepening when someone pulled on his hair from behind him. Bahorel, Bossuet and Grantaire had taken up the spots behind them, and Grantaire was feigning innocence with his hands up in the air in surrender.

“It was Bahorel I swear,” he said and shot a wicked grin at Enjolras, “I would not dare touch the golden fleece for fear of waking the dragon.”

Before Enjolras could retort back, Headmaster Valjean stepped up to the grand marble podium near the front altar and the room was swept over with silence.

“Nihil sicut creare educatio futurae,” the Headmaster began in his deep voice, “Good evening students, it is with my warmest regards that I welcome you back to Musain Academy. For some, it may be your first year in the uniform, while for others, it may be your last. For those of you who are ready to sit through their last of my speech’s, I will try not to talk your ears off for too terribly long. Before I go any further, let us give our congratulations to this year’s graduating class. They have all come such a long during their time here.” Applause filled the room with the occasional whoop from an underclassmen. Courfeyrac beamed. He also say Enjolras whip his head around back towards Grantaire who had just pulled another one of his curls again.

Courfeyrac nudged Combeferre lightly with his elbow and nodded in their direction, “They’re so cute it’s adorable” Courfeyrac whispered as the Headmaster continued on with his speech. Combeferre tried, without success, to suppress a smile.

“The tension between them changed a lot over the summer.” Combeferre whispered back.

“It’s pure sexual tension. They’re totally gonna start banging within the month.”

Combeferre quirked an eyebrow and leaned in dangerously close to Courfeyrac’s ear, “You want to make a wager?” he asked, his voice low with a playful seriousness. The room suddenly felt a lot smaller and hotter to Courfeyrac and he absolutely ignored the shiver that went down his spine when Combeferre’s voice tickled his neck, but it was a lot harder to ignore their proximity to each other. 

Courfeyrac swallowed hard and regained himself, “Twenty bucks. My bet’s on Halloween.”

“Alright, mine’s on Christmas.” Combeferre whispered back, still extremely close to Courfeyrac’s ear.

Courfeyrac resolutely looked straight ahead. What the hell had gotten into him? He had never never _never_ thought about Combeferre in this weird perverted sexual way. Ever. Combeferre was always cute and bookish and now suddenly he was hot and nerdy, and in Courfeyrac’s world, there was a majorly huge difference between the two. Besides, Combeferre was his best friend and unless you’re life is actually a cheesy rom-com you don’t fall in love with your best friend. You just don’t. Courfeyrac sighed and decided that whatever this weird thing was, it would pass. It was probably just because he had missed Combeferre a lot over the summer and now his mind was overcompensating to make up for it. Or something like that.

With a nod, Combeferre moved back out of Courfeyrac’s personal bubble and Courfeyrac felt like he could breathe again.

After what was probably legitimately ten years (Courfeyrac was definitely not one to exaggerate), the welcome speech was finally over and the students were dismissed for dinner. Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Enjolras started down the corridor to the dining hall and Grantaire quickly ran to catch up with them, walking at Courfeyrac’s side. 

“Grantaire, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that girl who goes to Corinthe Academy you said you knew.” Combeferre said.

“Girl? What girl?” Courfeyrac asked before Grantaire could answer, partly out of general curiosity and nosiness and partly because Combeferre was rarely ever interested in girls (except of course when it came to their rights and obviously Eponine).

“Oh yeah, Floreal’s great. I’ve known her since I was a kid, she just transferred to Corinthe after getting kicked out of whatever other pre-Ivy school she went to before.” Grantaire replied, paying little attention to Courfeyrac, “She was one of my dealers before you.”

“Does she still deal?” Combeferre asked. How he could talk about such illegal topics in the middle of a school hallway and act as if it was the most natural thing to do, Courfeyrac would never know.

“Yeah, but she’s gotten more into prescription meds recently I’m pretty sure.” Combeferre made an affirmative hum.

“Any way you could introduce us?” 

“I’m sure I could get her to come to the party after the game on Friday. You guys have heard about that, yeah?”

“Excuse you, do you even know who you’re talking to?” Courfeyrac asked, dramatically putting his hand over his heart as if he had been physically wounded, “Of _course_ I know about the party. As head cheerleader it is my very official duty to make sure our team’s performance is properly celebrated both during the game and after.” he said as he sat down at their long table in the dining hall.

“Courf, there is no cheerleading team for you to be head of.” an unamused Enjolras stated, to which Courfeyrac responded to with a _humph_ and a pouty face, “And besides Grantaire, you will already be inebriated at the game, why do you feel it’s necessary to go out after?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, as gods have no need for petty mortal pastimes.” Grantaire waxed, to which Enjolras only rolled his eyes and huffed. For being filled with as much righteous fury as he was, Enjolras really nailed the whole ‘angsty teen melodramatic eye roll’ thing.

“Well anyways,” Courfeyrac continued to break the tension, “I heard there’s going to be a piñata. So I can’t wait. Do you guys think you’ll win the game?” 

“It’s hard to say at this point,” Combeferre answered while filling his plate up with food, “Picpus usually doesn’t have a very strong defense but they might’ve improved this year with new recruits and whatnot. Either way our team is looking pretty good and practices have been going well.”

At Musain Academy one sport, one team was glorified and hailed above all others— varsity soccer. The soccer team was treated like a football team was in any 90’s high school movie. Except it was better, because the boys on the Musain team weren’t stupid, bullying muscle heads like their 90’s counterparts were often portrayed as. But the school went all out for them nevertheless. The bleachers at every game were packed with fans, Courfeyrac prided himself with always being in the front, leading the chants and songs and waving signs to cheer the boys on. 

Enjolras was (fittingly) the captain of the team and the frontline attacking midfielder, he had been on varsity since freshman year which was frankly unheard of for in the team’s history. Combeferre was the goalkeeper and had been since sophomore year, his tall frame working to his advantage in keeping the balls from going into the net. Bahorel was also on the team, taking great pride in being center midfielder and was definitely the closest to resembling the stereotypical Hollywood jock previously mentioned. Feuilly had recently become a defenseman and Bossuet had been on the team until he broke his leg (surprisingly not from soccer) and had had to sit out ever since. Marius was a defenseman along with Feuilly, but only making varsity last year as he had been to nervous to perform well during his previous tryouts.

As the rest of the group sat down next to them, they all started chatting amiably about classes starting, the upcoming game and the party that would follow suit. The tables were full of cooked vegetables, salads and assorted meats that quickly were consumed by the teenage boys. Courfeyrac had missed this too over the summer— the excitement of the new school year combined with the familiar routine of it all. He was glad to be back in his second home for his last and final year there. Who knew what next year would have in store for his friends, all going their separate ways to college. This was the last year they would all be together as a family, and the thought saddened Courfeyrac.

“What’s on your mind?” Combeferre asked quietly, concern etched on his face.

Courfeyrac blinked and mentally threw away all the sad thoughts, he was not about to mope around on his first night back, “Oh nothing,” he smiled, “Just thinking about how sad your face will be when you’re handing over twenty dollars next month.” he lied.

That was also the moment when Grantaire, who had decided, for whatever reason, to recite Hamlet, holding a glass of milk in his hand like a skull and standing on his chair precariously, was bumped into by Bossuet and subsequently spilling the milk all over the other side of the table, and therefore, Enjolras. The blond started yelling athim for irresponsible tendencies and whatever else Enjolras typically yelled at Grantaire for.

“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think I’ll be the one losing any money over this bet.” Combeferre responded with a smirk. Courfeyrac laughed at the universe’s impeccable timing.

Suddenly his right arm was grabbed and he would’ve jumped had he not grown accustomed to this happening over the last several years. He turned to see what Jehan was about to write or draw on his arm. 

Jehan’s long auburn hair spilled over his face, but he didn’t bother to push it out of the way. To an outsider, Jehan’s tiny frame made him appear weak, but Courfeyrac was frighteningly aware that the poet was anything but. While often soft-spoken, or even more often speaking in mystifying and puzzling expressions, Jehan was simply a lion in sheep’s clothing. Or less metaphorically, a fiercely loyal and opinionated boy in crazy clothing ensembles which often involved bright colors, mismatched patterns and unfitting garments. Eccentric fashion choices aside, Jehan was truly a beautiful and loving human. 

“What are you writing about?” Courfeyrac asked, it was rather difficult to read Jehan’s flowing handwriting upside down.

“How two people in love look at one another.” he replied without looking up from his writing.

“Combeferre and I have a bet,” Courfeyrac leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “on when Enjolras and Grantaire will finally get together. You want in?” 

Jehan thought for a moment, “Making wagers over other’s love lives isn’t a very supportive thing to do.”

“Oh come on Jehan, this is Enjolras and Grantaire we’re talking about. They have to be the exception. I mean look at them.” Jehan stopped his writing and looked over to where the two were now bickering over the misogyny in Shakespeare’s various plays. Typical. “And besides, they’ve started Hanging Out.”

“Well, something _has_ changed between them,” he paused in the middle of his sentence to write something else on Courfeyrac’s arm, “Valentine’s Day.”

Courfeyrac squealed excitedly.

 

With a full stomach, the boys eventually made their way back to their respective dorms. When Courfeyrac flopped down onto his queen-sized mattress, rested his hands behind his back and stared at the top of the canopy over his bed. 

“Senior year is so going to rule.” he said.

“You sound like a character from a Lindsay Lohan movie.” Marius replied from his bed on the other side of the room.

“I hope that’s a compliment. I am definitely taking that as a compliment.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made so many painfully obvious Brick references it's not even funny. too bad!!!!!  
> the weird latin shit valjean says is not only a poor google translation so i apologize if it's wrong, but it should translate to "there is nothing like an education to create the future" which is almost a quote from the book!!! almost. the real line is "there is nothing like a dream to create the future" and it's my absolutely favorite.  
> 1823 is the year the june rebellion took place so OBVIOUSLY that's also when the school founded.  
> the whole musain and corinthe is pretty obvious assuming you've read any les miz fic ever.  
> picpus is the convent valjean and cosette take refuge in so i made it an opposing school???? i don't even know 
> 
> courfeyrac is me and i am courfeyrac and so i am literally just writing myself into this fic via courf. so there's that. also i know floreal isn't typically a main character in les miz fics but i needed a cool outsider and i want more girl characters so she seemed like the perfect fit!!! this chapter was mostly just background stuff i needed to cram into the story so i got lazy and just did most of it one chapter. *shrugs*
> 
> any and all mistakes are mine as this is unbeta'd. a thousand apologies.


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